


FebuWhump2021 Day 15: Identity Reveal

by startrekkingaroundasgard



Series: FebuWhump2021 [15]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood and Injury, Coercion, F/F, Identity Reveal, Intimidation, Jodie Whittaker is The Master (Doctor Who), Knives, Roleswap, Threats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:33:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29083941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startrekkingaroundasgard/pseuds/startrekkingaroundasgard
Summary: In the middle of the night, The Doctor stumbles into the reader’s home, bruised and bleeding. However, it soon becomes clear that it isn’t The Doctor at all, rather someone far more menacing and dangerous.
Relationships: The Master (Doctor Who)/Reader, The Master (Whittaker)/Reader, Thirteenth Doctor/Reader
Series: FebuWhump2021 [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2156145
Kudos: 15





	FebuWhump2021 Day 15: Identity Reveal

Someone was outside. You froze in the darkness, wishing you’d brought your phone into the kitchen with you. Holding your breath, you waited for the rustling to stop. It was probably just a fox going through the bins. Nothing sinister at all. However, you’d spent enough time travelling around the universe to know that it was never just a hungry scavenger – or, if it truly was, that it would more likely be a seven foot tall alien with claws for fingers, hungry for human flesh, and not a cute little woodland creature.

The door handle jiggled. Definitely not a fox.

Quickly, quietly, you set your empty mug on the side and pulled a knife from the chopping block. It was a fairly useless weapon, honestly, a cheap house warming gift from a distant family friend that clearly didn’t want you to cut anything with ease. They were flimsy, blunt no matter how you tried to sharpen them, and completely disproportioned. All you could hope was that the intruder would be too surprised by the weapon to stop and ponder its charity shop origins.

Muscles coiled tight, hiding behind the door, you took a deep breath and thought of The Doctor. Your brave, beautiful Doctor. All that time running around the universe, surviving hostile planets and impossibly old enemies. You pictured her smile, imagined her voice in your mind, a cheerful promise that everything would be okay. She had taught you to meet danger head on and you would do her proud tonight.

Glass shattered as the intruder forced their way in, the shards crinkling under their shoes. The figure stumbled and barely avoided cracking their head open on the corner of the counter. Stumbling upright, she stepped into the moonlight and you almost doubled over in relief.

Flicking on the light, you stepped out from your hiding place and ran to her. You threw your arms around her and pulled the Time Lord into a hug. “I have missed you.”

Her arms hung limply at her side – she never had been one for hugging – before The Doctor pushed you back. Before you could ask why she’d come back to Earth, you saw the dark stain on her side and gasped, “You’re bleeding!”

“Am I? I hadn’t noticed.” The Time Lord’s lips twitched. It hardly seemed the right time to be smiling and yet you were compelled to match her expression regardless. Always with the inappropriately timed jokes. She never did change.

You slipped an arm around her waist as she stumbled against your form, dropping an arm around your neck and shoulders. Staggering over to a chair, her heels dragging on the tiles, you sat her down and fell to your knees to survey the damage.

For the first time, as you pulled the fabric away from her skin, you noted her outfit. “You’ve not been back to Fortuna Beta, have you?”

Her face crumpled in confusion, or possibly annoyance. “What?”

“The suit.” It was nice, you had to admit. It hadn’t been so fitted before, you were certain, but the new cut was striking in a completely different way. The jacket and trousers emphasised every curve and the blouse (once white, now stained dark red) dipped tantalisingly between her breasts. Considerably more feminine, more awe inspiring, than you remembered but there was no doubt she looked incredible. “You wore something similar when we went for Jack’s third bachelorette party.”

“I haven’t been to Fortuna Beta,” she said levelly.

You carefully plucked the damp fabric from her side and grimaced. Her skin was blackened, still fizzling around the edges of the wound. Measuring a few inches across, it was a miracle that she hadn’t keeled over from shock yet.

“You’re not going to regenerate, are you? I only had the kitchen done last month.” Your joke was soured by your pained tone. The Doctor had told you it wasn’t the same as dying but you feared that, when everything changed and a new person stood before you, it wouldn’t be so easy to brush it aside.

She touched two fingers under your chin, a brief touch but more than enough to lift your glance. Her dark lips twitched once again and you wondered how she could be so calm. You had faced more than your fair share of injuries in your time together and knew first hand the agony this sort of wound caused. “I’m not going anywhere, darling.”

Something in her gaze sent a shiver down your spine but not the fun kind. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away even though every nerve in your body was alight. There was a dangerous glint in her eye, the sort that had caused Daleks and demi-gods to turn and run. But this wasn’t a fleeting darkness. It surrounded her, enrapturing and hypnotic, like a black hole pulling you in.

“You’re not the Doctor.”

The Time Lord clicked her tongue in disdain. Her fingers trailed down your throat, igniting your skin with a terrifying chill, before curling around your neck. It wasn’t hard enough to do damage – not yet – but the threat was perfectly clear. “I’m so much more than she could ever be.”

“Who are you? What have you done to her?”

She pressed her fingers harder into your skin, imposing and awe inspiring as she leaned above you. “I have done nothing to your precious Doctor. Well. I might have left her unconscious in a prison cell and stolen her TARDIS but that’s just foreplay between best enemies. And as for who I am, surely your pretty little brain is capable of fathoming that.”

Her name came to you like a whisper. Perhaps it was a thought of your own, a realisation that she could be no one else. Or, more likely, she planted it there in the back of your skull. You feared what other surprises she could have left along with it. _“Master.”_

“Oh, now isn’t that the most beautiful sound I’ve heard this century.”

A warmth spread across your cheeks, humiliation and arousal too tightly entwined to tell one from the other. The Master tightened her grip with a grin as you swallowed back those thoughts, the pressure on your throat now causing you concern. You could breathe, yes, but not deeply, not easily. Shame washed through you as you realised that you had missed this, missed the danger and excitement of her – The Doctor’s – world.

“Why are you here?”

“That isn’t important,” she said, almost disappointed in your query. “What matters is what you are going to do for me. And that’s exactly what I tell you, isn’t it?”

Suddenly your back was slammed against the wall, the pressure on your throat unbearable. Stars danced across your vision but The Master remained clearly in the centre, a saving grace among the darkness. She leaned in, her soft cheek brushing against yours, and whispered in your ear, “Another pound of pressure and I can snap your neck. Don’t make me ask again, love.”

“Why me?”

The Master leaned back, considering your question with amusement as your eyes grew bloodshot and the burning in your lungs became unbearable. “Because The Doctor likes you and there’s nothing more fun than breaking her toys.”

You groaned as your knees smacked the ground, falling like a pile of bricks the second she released her grip. Gasping for breath, it was too late to move your hand and The Master pressed her heel onto it, once again not hard enough to hurt but the warning of more perfectly clear. Blood dripped from her wound onto your skin, warm and sticky. It made your stomach churn.

Her earlier question still hanging heavily in the air, you looked up at The Master and nodded. “Okay.”

“What was that, dear? I didn’t quite hear you.”

“I said, yes, Master. I’ll do whatever you say.”

She crouched down, barely wincing at the pressure it put on her wound. Had any of her earlier stumbling been real? Tilting your face up, she brushed her lips over yours and grinned wickedly. “We are going to have so much fun.”


End file.
